Drafted
by BornThisWay
Summary: On the eve of the initial WWE Draft Jillian Hall is hesitant about leaving behind her best friend on Smackdown. Worse yet, she's afraid he's going to be moved to either Raw or ECW and leave her behind ... Please Read and Review, all criticisms welcomed.


**A/N ****– **I have wanted to see this pairing for so long. However, no one indulged me, so I took the liberty to screw it up myself. This story was something I hadwritten**before**the supplemental draft. There will be a second part, which will obviously involve the supplemental draft.

I own nothing, except for the term** '****devastatingly awesome'**No, you may not borrow it. It's already on loan. And yes, **Bear** I'm **still**staring at the Skittles... This story is for **you**. (**Lilian** called ... she wants her **Hell** back)

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Staring at him silently she watched his chest rise and fall with each breath, eyes squeezed tightly shut. She guessed he was sleeping. Sleep. That was something that had evaded her lately. Who knew how long it had been since the blonde had had a sound night's sleep? She had no idea how long, and she had no one to blame but herself. It was because of him.

She didn't want him to go.

Jillian sighed and turned to stare out the window of the bus they were travelling on. He stirred slightly, shifting his head in her lap as he tried to make himself more comfortable. Almost unconsciously her hand drifted to his hair, her fingers drifting over its spiky ends. An easy grin spread over his face at her touch, his heart leaping into his throat at the thought of her just being there. Peering up at her discretely he frowned at her mournful expression. Why did she look so sad?

Closing her eyes she faced forward with a shuddery breath. This was already so damn hard. It honestly couldn't get any worse. His hand snaked up to find hers, and she sought comfort from his cool touch. "Ken?" She whispered softly. "Ken? Babe, are you awake?"

Yawning quietly he opened his eyes to meet hers. "I am now," he mumbled in a sleepy tone. "What's wrong Blondie?"

The sparkle in her eyes vanished as she answered him. "What if ..."

What-if what ... Oh. His face went blank, an automatic defence mechanism. "No," he said sternly. "No 'what ifs'."

"But ..."

"No buts," he chided in a gentler tone. "If it happens, it happens."

She nodded sullenly, not wanting to hear the words coming from his lips but at the same time knowing he was right. "Okay ..."

He went to prop himself up on his elbows to try and reason with her, only to remember that he was lying virtually on top of her. "Jill, honey..."

"Just go back to sleep Ken," she muttered listlessly. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"No you're not," he joked. "If you were sorry, you wouldn't have done it." Not even cracking a smile she ignored him. "Jillian..."

Defiantly, she stuck her fingers in her ears. "Not listening."

"Jill." He sighed in exasperation.

"I said," she echoed, sticking out her tongue. "I'm not listening."

"Fine," he pouted with a puppy dog expression. "I'll just lie here and talk to myself."

Folding her arms she rested them on his chest. Shuffling backward Ken rested his back against the window, his legs resting over hers. Her hands fell into his lap and he held them there, playing with the bracelet on her wrist. She flinched at his touch, a warm feeling spreading through her fingers. "Okay."

Rolling his eyes he stifled his laughter. "Jillian Faith Fletcher, listen to me." Pausing to see if she would respond, he gently reached up and tilted her chin downward to see her eyes. Shrouded with tears they looked troubled, something that concerned him. "We're not going to get split up."

"But how do you know?" She asked, a little wounded. "The draft is tomorrow night. What if you get sent to Raw?"

"And what if you get sent to ECW?" He asked, hand still cupping her chin. "We might still stay on Smackdown together Blondie; you don't know what's going to happen."

"I just have a feeling," Jillian persisted.

Cocking an eyebrow at her he looked doubtful. "Roughly one hundred Superstars and Diva's and we're going to be the ones that get moved?" He asked gently. "Pretty big odds Jill."

"I know, Ken, its stupid." Her voice dropped sheepishly.

"It's not stupid," he replied kindly. "We have to think positively about this."

"Aren't you afraid we're going to be separated?" She asked anxiously. "Doesn't it worry you?"

A million thoughts ran through his mind as she searched his face desperately for the answers she wanted to hear. He went to speak before stalling, shifting his head to glance into the aisle. It was nearing midnight, most of the other wrestlers and Divas alseep or speaking quietly amongst themselves. Reaching for the curtain he pulled it across the section they were sitting in, obscuring them from view. Shifting his legs off of her he stood and lifted her off their seat. Sitting himself down first he placed her across his legs so she was straddling him. Slightly shocked, her hands fell against his chest, palms facing down. Sliding his hands behind her he rested them on her hips to prevent her falling backwards. There was a question on her lips, but he silenced her and began to speak. "You're my best friend," he told her honestly, brushing a strand of hair off of her face. "Of course I'm afraid they're going to move one of us. There's no way I want to be on a different show to you, I couldn't bare it."

She smiled softly, looking ever so fragile as she leant against him. "Correct answer."

He returned her smile, tightening his grip on her hips. "You thought I was going to say otherwise?" Squirming, she shook her head. "You know I've always got your back Jill," he reassured her quietly. "Like that time when Michelle locked you out of the locker room dressed only in a towel?"

Face flushing bright red Jillian buried her head in his chest. "You promised you'd never bring that up again!" She protested in embarrassment. "Ken!"

Chuckling he wrapped his arms around her. "You looked cute all wrapped up in your fluffy towel," he teased. "Anyway, I saved you remember?"

"Sure you did," she mumbled hotly. "After you stood there and laughed at me for like five minutes with Brian and Chris!"

"Well ... what about the time you had that wardrobe malfunction at that house show in Minnesota?"

Sitting back again she almost fell off his lap, knocking herself out on the seat in front of them. Ken grabbed her just in time, his hands coming up to grab her just under her armpits. "Are you kidding?" She giggled, brightening a little. "You came running out after the match had finished, throwing your shirt at me. Your parents didn't know what to think!"

"They liked you though," he reminded her. "They thought you were great. My mother keeps asking when you're coming home with me to visit. She took a real shine to you Blondie. "

Eyes shining, she let her tears start to slide down her cheek. "I liked her too," she agreed with an awkward smile through her tears. "She's a really special lady."

"Yeah," Ken smiled tenderly. "She is." Clearing his throat shyly he forced her eyes to stay focussed on his. "But she's not the only special girl in my life." At her curious expression he gave a slight nod. "I mean you honey."

"Thanks" Jillian answered faintly. "Ken..."

"I don't want the draft to see us ending up on different shows," he interrupted her. "I want to keep travelling with you, to keep listening to your singing and your whinging in the car at night. I need you on the road with me ... who else can I trust to run into my hotel room in the middle of the night screaming and jumping up and down on my bed just because?" Unable to stop herself she smiled painfully, remembering some of their more outrageous road trips. Moving one of his hands away from her body he lifted a hand to her face and thumbed away some of her tears. "Hey, hey. Don't cry. Whatever happens, it won't change anything between us, I swear to you."

"I'm over re-acting," she blushed, ducking her head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Just another thing I love about you, you bimbo."

Her jaw dropped. "Bimbo?! I'm not a bimbo!" Seeing him smile slyly she grinned back, sucker punching him in the arm. "Hey, that's not funny!"

"I thought it was."

"Jerk."

"Bimbo."

They sighed in unison, Ken hit by the sudden realisation that he might actually lose her in the draft. Swallowing heavily he bit his lip, moving his hand away from her chin. He didn't even realise he'd let it linger so long. "God, I'm going to miss you ..."

Jillian closed her eyes. "Same."

The pair fell silent, Jillian yawning. Turning around she faced her back to Ken and snuggled in between his legs. Shuffling back in the seat he gave her more room as he slipped his arms around her waist.

"Are you comfortable?"

"I'm fine. I'm a little sleepy." She answered quietly. A heavy air sat around them, a sense of foreboding. They both now knew what was at stake tomorrow. Jillian remained poker face, trying not to let her emotions run wild. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alright," he lied through his teeth. Almost unconsciously he tightened his grip on her tiny waist. He wasn't ready to let her go, for her to leave; he wasn't even ready for to take the jump to another show himself. This girl had been the one normal thing in his life on the road for the past two years. She was his best friend God damn it. That wasn't something you could walk away from easily. "You should get some sleep before tomorrow. It's going to be a big day."

"I can't sleep on this bus," she whispered. Insomnia. Ken. That was what had gotten her into this mess. "I close my eyes and all I think of is ..."

"Do you think you can sleep if I hold you?" He asked automatically without thinking. Anything that might possibly make her feel better. He couldn't stand to see her like this. Twisting her head back to see his face she nodded slowly with heavily lidded eyes.

"It might be a little easier."Angling his body he lay across the seat, one leg hanging off the side. Resting against him, Jillian curled her body up securely under his arm.

"Better?"

"Much better," Jillian murmured. "Thanks Ken."

It was a flippant thank you, but the weight behind it was enormous. Smoothing down her hair he kissed the crown of her forehead. She was hurting. He knew how she felt. "You're welcome Jill."

She was so close she could hear his heartbeat. Tears once again began to fall from her eyes, pouring down her face. Ken didn't say anything, he just held her. This was their way of hanging on, to the last possible moment.

"I'll ring you," she sniffled. "Every second day."

"We haven't even been moved yet," he pointed out needlessly. All these upsetting thoughts were making him restless. In that instant he hated the draft and everyone associated with it. How dare they try and split up all these people and the brand family they were so accustomed too. Partners and friends separated. It wasn't about to discriminate against anyone, least of all him. Fear gripped him, but he pushed it aside. "Honey..."

Jillian shrugged. She didn't care. They would be at the building before long and they wouldn't have any time together. She needed to know that he wouldn't forget her, that he wouldn't replace her. She needed to know she had a tiny place in his heart. "Babe, just humour me," her voice barely a whisper. "Please."

"I'll ring you every day," he promised seriously, a slight catch in his voice. "Twice, whenever I get the chance. It'll be like we're not even apart. I mean ... it'll be hard, because we've only spent like every day together for two years ..." Choking back his own tears, he tried to calm himself down. He couldn't recall the last time he'd been so upset, and over a girl. But then again, Jillian wasn't just any girl. She'd proved that to him, time and time again. "We'll work it out."

"I know," she spoke up in a tiny voice. "But that doesn't make this any easier."

"You're not kidding," he muttered bitterly, playing with her hair as she rested her hand gingerly on his bicep. A small smile crept across his face. He'd never realised before how good it felt to hold her close and just talk. It just felt so ... so natural. Warmth seeped into his voice, masking his sadness. "There's email, pay per views."

"Myspace," she added with a hint of a grin. "I'd let you be my top friend."

Ken groaned. "Not even for you, could I handle Myspace. We've had this conversation before."

"But it's an easy way to keep in touch," she protested. "You could comment my pictures and tell me how pretty I look."

Scoffing, he looked down at her. "Blondie, I don't need a picture to show me how pretty you look. And pretty isn't the word I would use. Let's try beautiful."

"Beautiful?"

"Beautiful." He confirmed softly, to her surprise. He had never just called her beautiful. Ken would tell her she was pretty, or that she looked nice, depending on what she was wearing. He would tell her that her hair looked good or that the way a dress hung on her curves was sexy. Never beautiful. "Jillian?"

It was funny how the most simplest of words seemed to encompass everything that Jillian wanted to hear. She liked being thought of as beautiful by someone, even if she didn't really think it was true. Hearing the question in his voice she sat up and swung her legs over his so her feet hit the floor. Her right hand remained on his arm as she glanced down at him, fingers tightening their grip so she could maintain her balance. Suddenly their eyes met, this time the air around them seemingly electrified. "Yeah?"

"I uh ... there's something I need to tell you." Sucking in a deep breath he closed his eyes and began to speak. "Look, I know this is possibly the worst time for me to be saying this, and I don't want to make things any harder for you than they already are but ..."

The curtain blocking them from the aisle rustled slightly, and Michael Cole stuck his head inside their booth. Ken sat up quickly in surprise, the Diva on his lap falling against his chest. "Oh," the announcer said quietly. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't," Jillian broke in, with a short glance in her friend's direction. "It's alright."

Michael nodded uneasily. "Okay. Uh ... Ken, I needed to speak to you. Alone."

"Anything you need to say can be said in front of Jill," Ken butted in, grabbing her hand so she couldn't leave. "She's only going to hear about it five minutes after you leave anyway, so you might as well get on with it."

"Ken, I can go ..." She replies warily. She was well aware of what was happening. It was time. The preliminary draft picks were in. "Really."

"Stay." He said plainly. "I want you to stay."

Clearing his throat Cole stood in the corner, waiting for the pair to settle down. "The first three picks have been made," he said slowly, not able to look at the pair. He'd heard their conversation, along with half the bus. Now he was expected to do this? "You're both well aware that these changes are indeed permanent, but are in no certain terms final until the televised draw tonight.'

"Just tell me Cole." Ken muttered as Jillian averted her eyes. "What's going on?"

The older man's voice was filled with almost a hint of sincerity. "The good news is that Jillian, for now, your still a Smackdown Diva. The bad news is..."

"Ken? I'm sorry ... You're going to Raw."

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End file.
